Once In A Lifetime
by Jade-Max
Summary: A/U Rita/Andrew story. Focus on the histocial event "The Frank Slide" in 1903 Alberta, Canada. Please remember this slide was a reality when you R & R!


September 2002  
  
Disclaimer: This is a historical fic based on the events surrounding the  
greatest natural rockslide disaster in Alberta, Canada's history. The  
Frank Slide. My characters are fictional but do not belong to me. I'm  
simply borrowing the likeness and names from the Sailor Moon anime to  
illustrate a point in history. At the end of this story, you will find a  
list of those mentioned and if they survived the disaster or died in it.  
  
I wrote this story with the utmost respect for those who were involved in  
this disaster. Having visited the slide myself and felt overwhelming  
sorrow, I can only find admiration for those who had the courage to  
continue on after the slide, and sympathy for those who lost loved ones.   
  
The song is "Once in a Lifetime" by Wolfsheim, I don't own it either. I'm  
simply borrowing the lyrics, which are appropriate, in my mind, to this  
story.  
  
  
Once In A Lifetime.  
  
The sound of the train whistle echoed off the pass walls as the  
Canadian Pacific Rail, its cars loaded with coal, rumbled through the  
Crowsnest Pass past the mining town of Frank. Snug against the base of  
Turtle Mountain, the town had grown with amazing speed as the coal mining  
of the mountain came into full swing.  
  
The valley was a perfect place for the small mining town, the flats  
that spread out below the overhanging mountain leaving ample space for the  
cottages for the families of the miners and the tent cities that were  
invariably going to spring up when men came from all over looking for  
work. Autumn looked good on the valley in 1902 as Frank was touted to be  
"the town of the future". Though small, it was swollen by mining  
families, single men and women, who came from all over to seek their  
fortunes mining the coal.   
  
Among these were a young couple from Lethbridge. Arriving on the  
Spokane Flyer, the rail connection between the small town and the outside  
world, it was obvious that they were not a well off couple. She was  
barely more than seventeen, her dress threadbare and worn, her red hair  
wrapped tightly about her head once and then secured at the nape of her  
neck in a bun. Her companion was tall, blonde and dressed in black slacks  
and a coat that had seen better days. In his hand, he carried a carpet  
bag holding their worldly possessions.  
  
The young woman swallowed hard as she stepped off the train, "Andrew,  
are you sure this is the right place?" her gaze was on the looming shadow  
of Turtle Mountain. The overhanging portion of the peak cast deep shadows  
over the mine entrance half-way up the hill and over the flat at the base.   
  
Her husband slipped an arm around her shoulders, "Yes, Rita. Here is  
where we'll search for our fortunes."  
  
She said nothing as he stepped away and began wading through the  
other people disembarking from the train. She sighed once, straightening  
her spine and quick stepped after him, the shabby hem of her skirt  
whispering along the planks of the train depot. She followed her husband  
through the crowds and out of the depot. He'd come here on the word of a  
friend, promising that here they could create a new life, beyond the reach  
of their disapproving parents. She hoped so. Andrew turned to look at  
her, making sure she was keeping pace before heading into the small town.   
  
The main street was a sight to behold. Three hotels, a fourth almost  
completed according to the sign, a bank, a cigar shop, a watch maker, two  
restaurants, a drug store and the list went on. Rita stared in awe at the  
luxury she'd not expected to find. Why, they even had a laundry! She'd  
not expected much of this frontier town, to be sure. Rita couldn't read,  
but by gauging the goods in the window, she could tell what each of the  
shops offered.   
  
Andrew paused, offering her his arm, "Rita, please, we need to keep  
going. I have to talk to the mining office before it closes tonight."  
  
She flushed, quickly stepping up to take his arm as they walked  
quickly towards the edge of Dominion Street, the main street of Frank.   
They passed houses, shops and a saloon as Andrew led them away from the  
center of town. Rita kept pace with him, vowing to come back and check  
the shops when they were settled into their new home. She felt a surge of  
misgiving as she looked up at the mountain that stretched high above them.   
Hopefully the mining office would keep its promise of a job for her  
husband.  
  
It was several long minutes of walking along a rutted dirt road  
before they saw anyone else. The sound of hoof beats alerted them first  
before a wagon came into view, going in their direction. A stern looking  
man with black hair, an obvious miner, stopped next to them as Andrew  
flagged him down. Their wagon was laden with goods from the general  
store.   
  
"Can I help you, sir?"  
  
Andrew nodded, "How far is it to the mining offices? I'm supposed to  
talk to the manger before they close tonight."  
  
"You won't make it on foot, son. Hope in, but don't touch anything.   
If I find out you're another of those guys begging for a job."  
  
Grateful, Andrew helped Rita into the back before climbing in  
himself. "Andrew Markham," he extended his hand to the other miner, "This  
is my wife, Rita. And for the record, we don't beg. I was promised a job  
by a friend of mine."  
  
The man nodded, shaking his hand, "Alex Leitch. You've got some good  
friends to be sent here. You done coal mining before?"  
  
"Yes sir."  
  
Alex chuckled and then flicked the reigns over the back of the horse,  
"The coal seam is huge here, I doubt we'll mine it out in my lifetime.   
Expect short nights and long days if you're on the day shift."  
  
Andrew nodded, pulling Rita into his arms and settling her against  
him so she wouldn't come to harm in the jostling cart. His hands settled  
on the gentle swell of her belly beneath her dress. "I'm used to working  
a night shift to be honest."  
  
Alex nodded thoughtfully, "We can always use a few good men on the  
night shift, ones that have done it before and aren't afraid of the dark."  
  
Andrew was quiet as Alex refrained from saying anything else. He  
bent his head and rested it gently on Rita's shoulder as the darkness of  
the valley began closing in. His smile was soft in the silence as he  
rubbed his hand over the slight swelling of their growing child.   
  
****It's getting dark too soon,   
A threatening silence, surrounding me,   
a wind comes up from the islands.   
When distance fades to stormy gray,   
wash out from the deep of the ocean.   
Here I will stand to face your wrath. ****  
  
Andrew had no trouble securing a job on the night crew of the Frank  
mine. Over the next few months, they began to settle in their new home  
and Andrew made himself at home with the other men who worked the night  
shift. Rita introduced herself to the other miner's wives and made fast  
friends with Mrs. Leitch and their six, soon to be seven, children.   
Several of the other miner's wives had quickly made her acquaintance and  
she soon learned the miner's wives were a tight-knit group.   
  
As the winter claimed the valley, production in the mine continued to  
increase as the demand for coal to run the rail shot through the roof.   
The men who worked the mine increased in number every day with over two  
hundred at work during the days, and as few as twenty working at night.   
Andrew was given his choice of shift and, more comfortable than most with  
working in the dark at night, stayed assigned to the night shift. It  
became apparent after three months that the Markham's were expecting a  
child and Rita was quickly changing an area in their small, business  
appointed home, into a nursery.  
  
Rita hummed softly as she embroidered a blanket for the baby who  
would be born in the early months of spring. Andrew was sleeping in their  
bedroom and, though she normally slept with him during the day, she could  
barely sleep with the energy coursing through her body. Andrew had  
promised her a surprise for Christmas, which was barely five days away,  
and she thought she had an idea of what he was going to give her.   
  
A light knock on her door brought her head up and she put her  
stitching aside as she stood, brushing at her plain skirt. Among other  
things, she'd had time to make a new wardrobe. On light steps she went to  
the door and unbolted it. Mrs Clark stood in front of her and she smiled.   
"Mrs. Clark, this is a pleasant surprise."  
  
Rita stepped from her home, pausing only to grab a shawl to place  
around her shoulders as she stepped into the cold winter air, "What can I  
do for you today?"  
  
Mrs. Clark looked about, "I've heard some disturbing rumors about the  
mine, Mrs. Markham," she admitted, "I was wondering if your husband had  
told you anything about them that would cause you worry."  
  
Rita sighed, opened the door behind her and motioned the other woman  
in, "Andrew is sleeping, so please, keep your voice down."  
  
Both women were finally seated at the table with a cup of tea and  
Rita glanced at the curtain that blocked the sleeping area from the dining  
room. "Andrew did mention that some of the timbers have had to be  
replaced in the last couple of weeks," she admitted, "I thought nothing of  
it, but they were good timbers who have mysteriously cracked. Mostly they  
take it in stride since the tremors in the shafts are really frequent."  
  
Mrs. Clark wrapped her fingers around her cup, "Alex and I had a  
visitor the other day. A native who said we shouldn't build our homes so  
close to the mountain. He had the most disturbing name for it too."  
  
"Oh?"  
  
She nodded, "He called it The Mountain That Walked." The older woman  
shivered, "If that doesn't give you the shivers I don't know what will."  
  
Rita mulled over the other woman's words and glanced out the window  
at Turtle Mountain. It was a very intimidating view, but in the last few  
months she'd been able to push down her initial unease about the mountain  
and turn their small clapboard house into something resembling a home. "I  
admit I don't like that mountain very much, but mountain's don't walk."  
  
Mrs. Clark twittered and sipped her tea, "That's what I told him, but  
he simply shook his head and told me I'd regret the day I didn't listen to  
him. Do you think he knows something we don't?"  
  
"Besides blowing the top of the mountain, I doubt the Indian could  
move the mountain."  
  
They laughed together at the absurd notion of moving a mountain and  
Rita eagerly began to ask the other women about her five children. Their  
conversation was low so not to disturb the sleeping Andrew and when Mrs.  
Clark finally left, Rita turned back to the view of the mountain, a frown  
on her full lips. Could the Indian be right? There weren't many that  
came to the valley, in fact, they seemed to avoid it. A shiver ran down  
her spine. She'd ask Andrew if it was possible when he woke up for his  
shift. Somehow she managed to put the thoughts to the side, to push the  
fear of something she couldn't name out of her mind, and went back to her  
embroidery.  
  
  
  
"The mountain that walked? Are you sure, Rita?"  
  
She nodded, "Mrs. Clark was adamant. That description scares me,  
Andrew, I don't want to lose you if the mountain suddenly collapses on the  
tunnels."  
  
He hugged her, kissing the top of her head, "Don't worry Rita, the  
mountain is safe. They had to check out all of the possibilities before  
they begin blasting and mining. If that thing comes down on our heads it  
won't be any time soon. Rest easy."   
  
She hugged him back, closing her eyes and trying to fight the  
inexplicable fear his words sparked. "You'll be careful?"  
  
He nodded, bending down to kiss her lingeringly on the lips, "I  
always am. Sleep well, Rita, I'll see you in the morning."  
  
She watched him walk out the door and sank back down into the chair  
she'd pulled by the stove. Silently she began to pray that Andrew was  
right and that, other than the unpredictable cave-in's, which were a  
hazard of all mining operations, he was right.  
  
  
  
Christmas came and Andrew presented Rita with the gift she'd never  
expected to receive. Land. They now owned a small parcel of it just  
north east of the company homes, on the other side of the railroad tracks,  
and south east of the town itself. She was ecstatic. Close enough to be  
there for her friends if they had need of her, or she of them, and yet far  
enough away for privacy. At last, Andrew and she had something of their  
own.  
  
As the months began to pass and they turned their new property into a  
home, the child in her belly grew and began to kick. Her fears of the  
mountain were increasing but she kept them to herself as Andrew's love of  
the limestone mass became apparent. He would spend a few minutes after  
his shifts watching the hillside like he did her; like a lover. An  
unattainable lover. Carefully guarding her tongue, she turned her efforts  
to their home as the winter began turning into spring.   
  
****Why are we ever so afraid.   
Calm down my heart don't beat so fast,   
don't be afraid, just once in a lifetime.   
Calm down my heart don't beat so fast,   
don't be afraid, just once in a lifetime.****  
  
Rita awoke with a start on a cold morning in April, her breathing  
ragged. Something had drawn her from sleep, but what? A hand on her  
chest, she felt like she was suffocating, being buried alive. She closed  
her eyes, gulping in breath after breath. A feeling of doom hung over her  
as her gaze went to the mountain. Andrew was still on his shift, he and  
twenty other men, deep within the mineshafts of that limestone coffin.   
"Are you alright?" she gasped out, praying that what she felt was little  
more than nerves.   
  
The familiar sounds of the train and the distant workings of the mine  
echoed through the night air, comforting in their consistency.   
  
The baby in her womb kicked, drawing her from her thoughts. He was  
late already by a week or so and she gently caressed her hard abdomen.   
"Are you ready to meet your father, my son?" she asked him, smiling. She  
believed the life inside her was a boy where Andrew was adamant she  
couldn't know for sure. Somehow, she just knew.  
  
Lying back down, she closed her eyes to sleep, her fears forgotten  
and a smile on her face.   
  
It was April 29, 1903 and the clock read 3:57 am.  
  
  
Deep within the bowels of Turtle Mountain, the twenty men on the  
night shift worked diligently to mine the black rock that was the life's  
blood of their families. Shovelling the black rock that fell from the  
ceiling, Andrew Markham swiped a forearm across his forehead as he checked  
the other men around him. They were covered in black dust, the same color  
as the rock they mined, and worked without pause. He continued to shovel  
the coal onto the rail car that would take it back to the entrance.  
  
"Andrew," a hand clamped down on his shoulder, black as the rest of  
the man. "Are you done with that load there? Fred and I are heading to  
the surface."  
  
Andrew turned his head, "Go ahead, Alex, it's as full as I'll get  
it."  
  
Alex Clark slapped him on the shoulder, his eyes barely visible  
behind the thick goggles he wore, and nodded. Alex and Fred Farrington  
disappeared into the darkness that led back to the face of the mountain,  
the load of coal moving slowly behind them. Andrew turned back to his  
task, starting to fill another of the cars with the black rock.  
  
The mining lights were little help in the darkness of the shafts as  
the miners worked diligently. The three were suddenly blown off their  
feet by a blast of air from deep in the mine, sending them careening into  
the walls. Andrew felt his head swim as his head connected with a  
sickening thump. The floor heaved beneath him as coal and rock showered  
down from above.  
  
Shouts of panic echoed through the narrow tunnels as the bracing  
supports split and cracked, echoing like gunshots down the halls. Rock  
fell and dust filled the air, choking the men as they were knocked from  
their feet. The roar of falling rocks was deafening in the tight spaces  
as some of the tunnels began to collapse. As suddenly as it started, the  
rumbling died. An eerie quiet descended on the miners as they regained  
their senses.  
  
Andrew struggled to push himself off the floor, feeling as if he'd  
been hit by a train. Blood ran into his eyes from a nick on his forehead,  
but he quickly wiped it away. His helmet lay a few feet away, the mining  
light shining on the tracks to the left. Dust clouded the air as small  
showers of coal and rock continued to fall.  
  
A cave in was every miner's worst nightmare and it had come true.   
He'd lived through it. He felt a quick surge of pride at the thought  
before his mind went back to his companions. "Is everyone alright?"  
  
The two men who were in the shaft with him pushed themselves to their  
feet. "Aye."  
  
"Just fine, Andrew. Yourself?"  
  
"We've got to get out of here," he coughed, choking on the coal dust.   
One of his fellows pressed a semi-clean cloth against his mouth, filtering  
the coal dust and keeping it from his lungs.   
  
"Easy there lad, it looks like you've hit your head pretty hard."  
  
"I'm fine," he replied, pushing himself to his feet before repeating  
his earlier statement, "We have to get out of here."  
  
Neither man argued as they left their tools and began running towards  
the entrance of the mine. The shafts were quiet, save for their  
footsteps, and none of the three men could feel the mountain moving  
anymore. Was it really over? They almost skidded into the stationary  
forms of the other miners as they stopped near the entrance. They were  
the last of seventeen to arrive.  
  
Timbers and other debris littered the collapsed entrance, blocking  
their only exit. Andrew leaned against one of the walls, his eyes  
closing. What kind of cave in destroyed the entrance to a mine but not  
the tunnels leading out to it? He closed his eyes, trying to focus his  
thoughts.  
  
"Lads, we're in a bit of a spot."   
  
Andrew opened his eyes as one of the other men spoke. He recognized  
the voice of Joe Chapman, the shift foreman, though the man's appearance  
gave no evidence. They all looked the same. Blackened, covered in coal  
dust, and some injured. Himself included. He listened attentively as Joe  
continued.  
  
"We have two options. We can try and dig our way out through here,"  
he waved a dark hand at the entrance, "or we can check the lower levels  
and the entrance there to see if it's in any better shape."   
  
They considered the blocked passage way. A voice from the middle of  
the men spoke, "We can't be more than 15 meters from the surface; we could  
clear that without much of a problem."  
  
Another miner echoed the sentiments before one of the older miners,  
who'd worked the mine since it'd opened in 1901 and knew it, better than  
the rest of them, shook his head. "You're dreaming. We're at least 90  
meters, if not more, from the side of the mountain. Digging through that  
wall will take more time than we have."  
  
"The we go down and see if we can get out through the lower  
entrance."  
  
A man who'd injured himself on the rail tracks nodded to the foreman,  
"I'll just wait here to see if you boys find anything."  
  
The foreman clapped him on the shoulders, "Good man, Will. We'll  
come back for you if it's clear."  
  
William Warrington nodded as the sixteen other men turned to go.   
Andrew spoke up, "I'll wait with you, Will."  
  
No one begrudged him the time as they went down into the shafts to  
check the entrance.  
  
Andrew settled next to the other man, "How's the leg?"  
  
William grimaced, "Hurts like a son of a bitch. I hear your wife's  
expecting soon."  
  
Andrew nodded, allowing himself a smile, "Rita says she's going to  
have a boy. He's overdue though. The midwife says if he doesn't come of  
his own accord she's going to have to help him along."  
  
William clapped the younger man on the shoulder, "She may have  
already had him."  
  
Andrew was quiet as he mulled over that thought. Hopefully whatever  
had trapped the men inside the mine, be it slide or avalanche, hadn't  
touched much of the town. "I hope not," he said at length, "I'd like to  
be there when he'd born."  
  
William shifted his position, carefully moving the leg he'd wrenched  
on the rail tracks. The sound of the men moving down in the shafts  
finally died, leaving the two completely alone. The sound of debris  
shifting in the entranceway of the mine echoed in the stillness. "Have  
you ever been trapped before, Andrew?"  
  
Andrew nodded, "Back east. Only once though. I got stuck in a  
tunnel with rotting timbers and they collapsed on me. I was lucky though.   
They found me and dug me out before the end of the hour. A friend of  
mine, Greg, wasn't so lucky. Rita and Amy were the best of friends before  
we came here. Amy moved back overseas to raise her six children with her  
parents when her husband died."  
  
William winced, "That's tough. God willing my wife won't be going  
through that and neither will yours."  
  
"Amen."  
  
They fell into a silence that remained unbroken until the sound of  
the returning miners could be heard. Andrew pushed himself to his feet.   
Joe came into view, shaking his head, "It's no use, the river's blocked by  
something and the damn thing is flooding the tunnels below. We can't get  
out that way."  
  
Andrew swallowed. He felt like he'd been buried alive and wanted to  
scream. The men were amazingly calm, self-disciplined, as Joe organized  
them back into their work gangs. It was apparent to all of them that if  
this entrance was blocked, their airshafts were more than likely in the  
same condition. The foreman quickly ordered them back into the tunnels  
and areas they'd been assigned, with orders to recover all the tools they  
could carry to begin working at the blocked entrance.  
  
The men moved with haste, aware that the tremors could have opened  
pockets of explosive gases, which would settle into the upper chambers,  
and make them exceedingly dangerous. They didn't have much time before  
they either suffocated, drowned or ignited the gases.   
  
The time was just after 4:30am  
  
****No rain can wash away my tears,   
no wind can soothe my pain,   
you made me doubt you made me fear,   
but now I'm not the same. ****  
  
  
Around 8am Andrew stepped away from the debris blocking the entrance  
and shook his head, "We're never going to get out this way, it falls back  
in as fast as we can move it."  
  
The other men were reluctant to agree with him, most of them seeing  
this as their only viable escape option. Andrew looked around, "I'm sure  
I'm not the only one who's having a hard time breathing right now, we'll  
never be able to open this entrance before the gases kill us. Especially  
if we're 90 meters away."   
  
Another voice spoke up, "There's a vertical shaft back in the mine,  
it's pretty deep and far from here, that could very well reach the surface  
before we do here. If nothing else that shaft will give us time to work  
it since it's lower down. The gases will rise and we'll have air for  
longer. We have a choice, men, we can keep working at this entrance,  
blocked by thick stones, or dig through clay and coal to try and get out."  
  
Andrew nodded, "Good idea. I, for one, don't want to die in here, I  
say we try that vertical shaft and get the hell out of here."  
  
The men agreed and the small party of miners quickly made their way  
into the bowels of the mine and towards the shaft that, hopefully, held  
their salvation.  
  
By 9am the men were hard at work in the shaft of coal, working in  
shifts of two or three at a time as the others cleared the debris. Their  
pace was slow, but steady as they pushed forward. Some of them sang songs  
as they worked to help pass the time and most were loath to give up their  
position when their turn to dig was up.   
  
Andrew thrust his pick into the coal seem and pulled mightily,  
bringing the large chunk from the wall. A part of him was lamenting the  
fact that so much coal wouldn't be brought to the surface, but most of him  
just wanted to get out. His panic was slowly rising, barely contained, as  
he continued to hack at the walls.  
  
Around him the men continued to sing and a smile found its way onto  
his sooty face. Singing helped pass the time and occupy the mind. As  
someone shovelled the coal away from his feet, he lifted his voice with  
the others.  
  
Sometime in mi-afternoon he was asked to go check the possibility of  
the mine entrance being reopened faster than this seam. Grudgingly, he  
accepted and two other miners accompanied him. Their footsteps echoed  
through the quiet shafts as Charlie Farrell led the way through the criss  
-crossing maze. The last of their party was quiet and Andrew couldn't  
remember his name.  
  
It was futile. The boulders that blocked the entrance were littered  
with broken supports. The word was snapped like straw and stuck out at  
every angle, the boulders seeming to have gotten bigger over time. Andrew  
shook his head, "We're not getting out that way."  
  
Charlie nodded, "I'm inclined to agree with you. Come on boys, its  
almost our turn at the shaft again."  
  
Andrew waited while Charlie and the other miner started back before  
his lips twisted. "Once again into the breech dear friends," he said  
softly, cynically. Shaking his head, he ran to catch up.   
  
****And when the silence comes back to me,   
I find myself feeling lonely,   
Standing here on the shores of destiny,   
I find myself feeling lonely...   
I had a life to give, many dreams to live,   
don't you know that you're loosing so much this time.   
Beyond the waves, I will be free.****  
  
It would be thirteen hours before the seventeen miners broke the  
surface, the pick of Dan McKenzie slicing through the clay and into the  
open air. Sunlight poured into the shaft with the fresh air, drawing a  
cheer from the miners. Dan made to stick his head out but ducked back as  
falling rocks bounced by.  
  
"Sorry lads, we're not getting out of this one."  
  
Joe chuckled, "We'll dig another shaft... here. Come on boys, we're  
not that far from home now."  
  
Renewed by the sunlight and fresh air, the men began to eagerly  
attack the earth with their picks. Continuing to work in shifts, it  
wasn't long before they'd dug another tunnel and broken the surface again.   
Coming up on the lee side of some embedded boulders, Dan McKenzie widened  
the hole and stepped out into the sheltered area.   
  
Andrew helped the men pull William Warrington, who was strapped to a  
plank, into the sunshine before he stopped and took a look around.  
  
Over 3000 acres of rock and mud spread out below them as the sweaty  
and exhausted miners pulled themselves from the bowels of the Frank mine.   
Rocks continued to fall, infrequently, to the east of them as they  
surveyed the damage. People were swarming like ants over the rocks and  
debris looking for survivors. The makeshift tent camp of men looking for  
work was gone, buried beneath thousands of tons of rock. The whole  
southeastern corner of the town was submerges by an ocean of limestone, a  
cloud of dust hanging like a fog over the valley.   
  
Andrew collapsed to his knees, his gaze finding the very place where  
he and Rita had begun to make their home. There was nothing, only a pile  
of rubble, the trees having been crushed like match sticks, the cabin  
nowhere to be seen. "No," he whispered, horrified. Rita! She had to be  
alright, she couldn't be dead, she couldn't! Beside him, he felt William  
grasp his arm in fear. The Warrington cabin had been obliterated.  
  
Andrew made to scramble down the hillside, but a strong arm  
restrained him. Another of the miners, his eyes wet with unshed tears,  
shook his head. "Andrew, you'll break your neck if you go that way."  
  
Andrew closed his eyes to fight the tears and sorrow that were  
starting to leave him blessedly numb. With a nod of his head he waited as  
the men began picking their way down the side of the mountain. In  
surveying that blanket of rock, Andrew felt any love for the mountain die.   
This mountain had most likely taken his wife and son from him, had killed  
any future he would have had in this valley. He'd had so many dreams and  
plans for this venture, so many ways of building a new life here for Rita  
and their family. Now there was nothing. Nothing but rock and death.  
  
****No rain can wash away my tears,   
no wind can soothe my pain,   
you made me doubt you made me fear,   
but now I'm not the same.   
You took my wife, my unborn son,   
thrown into the deep of the ocean.   
I don't pretend that I love you   
'cause now there is nothing left to lose.   
The love in you it does not burn,   
there is no lesson you can learn.   
And there are songs you cannot hear,   
and there are feelings you can't feel.****  
  
Andrew stood on one of the limestone boulders where his house had  
once been. The neighbours of Frank, Blairmore in particular, had rushed  
to lend their aid to the stricken town. Everything on the southeastern  
end had been buried or destroyed by the slide. The unofficial death count  
was seventy people so far, with another countless buried in the mining  
camp, and the three men who'd been outside the entrance of the mine at the  
time, yet to be counted. The most appalling fact was a third of those  
were children.   
  
"Rita!" he screamed, cupping his hands and turning in a circle.   
There was no trace of their cabin. No wood, no straw from their  
mattresses, no blankets. Everything they'd had had been destroyed or  
buried. He dropped from the top of the boulders, easily the size of their  
small cabin, to another the size of a wagon before finding a patch of  
ground between the stones. He knelt next to some of the smaller rocks and  
began to push them, hearing the gravel in between shift and fall.   
  
Most of the residents, save for a handful, had evacuated the town  
with the fear of another slide looming over their heads. Andrew had voted  
to stay behind. He couldn't give up on Rita, not yet, maybe not ever.   
His back muscles clenching, he heaved his weight against the rock and  
shifted it to the side, lifting it and moving it away. He wiped a forearm  
across his face, trying to stem the flow of tears and sweat. He was  
weary, exhausted from his fight in the mine, but he couldn't give up on  
her, she had to be alright!  
  
Somewhere in the distance some more rocks made their way down the  
mountain, but Andrew didn't look up. Their cabin had been near the center  
of the slide where some of the biggest stones had come to rest. He worked  
as he had in the mine, ignoring the sting of his injury, not caring that  
he was still coated in coal dust, or that his head ached abominably. He  
had to find Rita.  
  
Slowly he managed to clear an area that would have been Rita's  
garden. Somehow the transplanted flowers she'd added the day before were  
still there, the early spring bud beginning to bloom. He had an  
irrational urge to destroy it, to pluck it from the stem and crush it in  
his hands. How could something so beautiful, so trivial, have survived  
when his wife was still stuck in that maze of rock? He sobbed, dropping  
to his knees and cradling the flower between his palms. This was  
something of hers, something she'd been ecstatic to find and plant.  
  
"Rita," he sobbed, tears leaving trails of white on his blackened  
face, "my lovely Rita, please God, let her be alive." His pleading was  
soft as his tears soaked the ground. Mud coated his clothes as he lay  
next to the flower. Finally, he pushed himself to his feet.   
Determinedly, he set to work on moving the rocks and trying to find his  
wife. She couldn't be dead. She just couldn't.  
  
  
  
It would be several days before Andrew admitted defeat. The  
northeast face of Turtle Mountain had collapsed on the tiny town, killing  
an estimated 100 people in a city of 600. No one had escaped unscathed.   
Everyone knew at least one person affected by the slide.   
  
Andrew curled up at the base of the rocks where he estimated his  
cabin had been. Without landmarks, it was hard to tell. His shoulders  
drooping with wariness, he'd neither eaten nor slept in four days. His  
chest was hollow, any hope he'd had having diminished as the days wore on.   
Nobody found any trace of his wife or their child. Finally, he was forced  
to accept that they were buried under the rock. Rock that was, in some  
places, 30 meters deep.  
  
Closing his eyes, Andrew laid his head against the rock at his back.   
Rita. Her smiling face was imprinted on the back of his eyelids. His  
throat ached with the force of unshed tears. Slowly, he opened his eyes  
and stared at the mountain she'd never wanted to come to. Turtle  
Mountain. The mountain whose majesty had made him ignore its threat; the  
mountain who'd stolen his future. He'd go back in if they reopened the  
mine, but never again would he claim to love such a treacherous mistress.  
  
He looked back to the ocean of rock that was his family's tomb.   
Rita. His eyes stung and this time he let the tears flow. Bowing his  
head, he closed his eyes. He should have told her he loved her before  
leaving that fateful night, should have taken the time to kiss her  
goodbye. Guilt eating at him, he put his head against the rock and  
silently cried for his wife and the child he would never meet.  
  
Fin.  
  
Author's Notes:   
  
For a detailed account of what happened that night in the city of Frank I  
suggest you try the following site:  
http://www3.sympatico.ca/goweezer/canada/frank.htm this is where I drew  
most of my information from. That and my series of historical books:  
"Alberta in the 20th Century: The Birth Of The Province Volume 2, 1900  
-1910."  
  
I have no way of knowing exactly what went on in the mining shafts of the  
Frank mine when the top of the mountain fell on the community below and  
sealed the men inside. All of the events that take place inside the mine  
are pure speculation on my part except for certain parts, of which I drew  
my information from the above site. Most of the time stamps are of my own  
making.   
  
The official time of the slide was at 4:10am on Wednesday, April 29th,  
1903.  
  
Lastly, the official death count of the slide is 76, 21 of those children,  
though it is estimated that the slide claimed over 100 lives.  
  
  
A list of Characters from my story:  
  
Andrew & Rita Markham - fictional  
  
The seventeen miners mentioned in this story, except Andrew, were all real  
men who surpassed amazing odds and dug themselves out of, what could have  
been, their tomb. The names used in this story are from the history  
books. Each of these men survived to dig their way out. Dan McKenzie, as  
illustrated by the story, was the man who struck the blow to the outside  
world.  
  
Alex Leitch and his wife, as well as their four boys died instantly when  
the slide struck their home, one of the business owned cottages for the  
miner's families. Their two girls, Jessie and Rose-Mary were pinned in a  
double bed by a ceiling joint but lived with minor injuries. Their infant  
daughter, Marion, was thrown from the house and found safe on a bale of  
hay from the destroyed livery.  
  
Alex Clark and his wife along with their 5 children died in the slide.   
Alex was counted in the history books as one of the three men who were  
outside the shaft having a mid-shift break, as stated in this story. Mrs.  
Clark and her 5 children died in their house when it was buried in the  
slide.  
  
William Wellington survived the slide but his wife and 3 children were  
buried in their home.  
  
  
Thank you for reading, if you have anything you'd like to say, please  
write me at  
  
Jademax@hotmail.com  
  
Thank you for taking the time to read this story.  
Jade_Max 


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